I was obsessed with this song when it came out - in 2003. little did i realize how much worse it would get. i don't think i even had the ability as a freshly minted teenager to fathom a future worse than all of this. i don't think most of us did tbh. after all, we were promised the best and brightest and most fulfilling future of any generation. we lucky millennials.
and yet 20 years later, here we are. living every dystopian nightmare we never thought possible as kids. in 20 years a song depicting what seemed like the worst outcome i could think of is now normal.
idk maybe we should have seen all the blaring warning signs but for fucks sake most of them were buried in comedy, irony, sarcasm, fiction, or music that was mostly underground. no wonder we didn't think to take it seriously.
anyway. have a listen.
(and do keep in mind the language of the time)
lyrics under the cut
Lyrics:
Your cellphone, your wallet, your time, your ideas.
No bar-code, no party, no ID, no beers.
Your bankcard, your license, your thoughts, your fears.
No SIM card, no disco, no photo, not here.
Your blood, your sweat, your passions, your regrets.
Your profits, your time off, your fashions, your sex.
Your pills, your grass, your tits, your ass.
Your laughs, your balls, we want it all (we want your soul).
Your cash, your house, your phone, your life (we want your soul).
Tell us your habits, your fads, your fears.
Give us your address, your shoe size, your years.
Your digits, your plans, your number, your eyes.
Your schedule, your desktop, your details, your life.
Show us your children, your photos, your home.
Here, take credit, take insurance, take a loan.
Get a job, get a pension, get a haircut, get a suit.
Play the lottery, play football, play the field, snort some toot.
We'll show you shrinks, we'll show you spooks, we'll buy you drinks, throw away your books.
We'll sell you crap, we'll charge you tax, we're out buying big guns and you'll front the cash (we want your soul).
Your cash, your house, your phone, your life (we want your soul).
Your thoughts, your emotions, your love, your dreams.
Your checkbook, your essence, your sweat, your screams.
Your security, your sobriety, your innocence, your society.
Your self, your place, your distance, your space.
[Bill Hicks]
Go back to bed America, your government is in control again.
Here. Watch this. Shut up.
You are free to do as we tell you.
You are free to do as we tell you.
Here's boy bands, here's Mackers, here's Britney, here's cola.
Here's pizza, here's TV, here's some rock and some roller.
Watch commercials, more commercials, watch Jerry, not Oprah.
Buy a better life from the comfort of your sofa.
Here's popcorn, here's magazines, here's milkshakes, here's blue jeans.
Here's padded bras, here's armpit wax, here's football shirts, here's baseball caps.
Here's live talk-shows, here's video games, here's cola-lite, here's ten more lanes.
Here's filter-tips, here's collagen lips, here's all-night malls, here's plastic hips (we want your soul).
Your cash, your house, your phone, your life (we want your soul).
[Bill Hicks]
Go back to bed America, your government is in control again.
Here. Here's American Gladiators. Watch this. Shut up.
Go back to bed America, here's American Gladiators.
Here's 56 channels of it.
Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together,
and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom.
Here you go America.
You are free to do as we tell you.
You are free to do as we tell you.
No hippies, no strays, no drop-outs, no gays.
No lefties, no loonies, no opinions, no way.
No thinkers, no teachers, no facts, no freaks.
No skaters, no tweakers, no truth, no sleep.
Here's popcorn, here's magazines, here's milkshakes, here's blue jeans.
Here's padded bras, here's armpit wax, here's football shirts, here's baseball caps.
Here's very very very very very very very very very very very very long infomercials.
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Me: *beating myself up because I only am moderately good at most of the things I can do and have a hard time staying focused on one thing*
Literally anyone, doing the thing or not doing the thing: Oh that so cool! I’d love to try that/Wanna do the thing together sometime?/ Wanna see the thing I’m good at
Moral of the story, people don’t think about how good you are at something, they just think it’s cool that you do the thing. And if they ARE dicks about it, they aren’t worth your brainspace. I mean, I’m learning bass. O know some super talented bass players who are just thrilled that I’m even picking up the instrument on occasion. They don’t care that I’m not great and that I’m confused. They often teach me things.
When I first started writing, no matter how shitty it was, my grandpa, who is a professional writer, always told me I was doing amazing. So I kept writing. And ya I know I could have never published what I wrote before, but I got better, even though I was only writing little bits at a time.
When I started voice, only one person tried to put me down. A few years later and I had almost ruined my voice, and had totally lost the ability to properly balance it, and was getting swelling in a tendon in my neck because of the tension I was putting on myself to please this person who I was never good enough for. So I walked away and found someone who taught me the skills I needed to bring my voice back to where it should be. Turns out I’m not an alto 2. I’m a soprano 2.
I just took up roller skating. I thought it would be embarrassing learning something new now that I am legally an adult. Turns out people, skaters and non skater, just think I’m cool for even owning them.
I’m going to be starting school for sound tech this fall. I am terrified because I know nothing about it. All I have is my background in music and a few songs I wrote because I like poetry. When I was on my tour, the guy told me “ya know, I only knew a few chords on guitar when I started here” and now he teaches at the damn school.
My brain likes to tell me I’m not good enough to do something. That I need to be the best at it to even do it, so I have to constantly fight with it, and teach it to do things because I enjoy doing them, and not because I need to be good at it. Being good at things comes with time, and even when I am good at something, I don’t really see it anyway. I don’t know if anyone relates to this, but it’s been on my mind a bit and I thought someone might need to hear it too.
I can tell my brain perfection isn’t possible a million times over and never get through to it, but when I give it a thought out, logical reason why, that it can’t refute or spin into some shitstorm, I can actually do things I enjoy without worrying about judgment or harping on myself about being shit at it.
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